Further Enhancements
by stretch the faunlet
Summary: His Guardian days were over, or so he's thought... Rocket is offered a chance to become a hero again, to be made stronger, but at what price? And for what reason? (Originally uploaded on my Ao3 account)


**A/N: May or may not be a longer story... I still don't think im capable of making a long story, but if you guys want me to continue, then just let me know and I'll see what I can do. :) Anyway, this is an AU that takes place YEARS later, where Rocket and Groot are still alive (they're different species, so they can live longer, and Rocket, being cybernetically enhanced, is probably capable of living a long life span. Under different circumstances, over the years, Gamora and Drax and Peter all died. Rocket and Groot, in turn "retired" from being Guardians and Rocket opened up a gun shop. Well... that's where it starts. XD May continue this, depends on how many people want me to continue this. XD Also three years before this story Rocket lost his arm in an accident, so he has a prosthetic arm. That'll be a flashback and further explained later on.**

**Anyway enjoy! **

**...**

**Further Enhancements**

**...**

How did he end up here again?

It was still the same place as he remembered, except.. _different._ Their treatment wasn't the same as he remembered. The last time he was here he was chained and monitored 24/7, kept in a single cell when he wasn't being experimented on. Now they'd given him a room, and hadn't even touched him. Miraculously he found that they even let him piss and shit in private too...

Really the only thing that hadn't changed was that they used deceit to get him here to begin with. He never would have come willingly after all.

And yet here he was, unchained and unguarded, sitting alone in a dark room with only a single light over his head. Across from him a woman sat, and he waited for her to make a move. She looked like an older Terran woman, with short blonde hair just above her shoulders, and with a straight, angular face that fit someone who would be at her level of profession (whatever the hell she even was working at such a place)... There had to be some reason why they wanted him back, and since they hadn't tied him up or done anything to him, surely there was a reason...

She pushed a piece of paper out in front of his line of view. Rocket clutched his metallic hand with his regular paw, expecting this to be some sort of trade for something more.

"You know I learned a few things in my long life," he said with a glare, but the woman appeared to be not bothered at all by it in the slightest. "One of them being that you white coats ain't to be trusted."

She simply smiled at him, but it wasn't a shit-eating grin like he remembered the other Halfworld scientists giving him when they lied through their teeth. It was gentle, and if anything that was what unnerved him. "And yet here you are..."

Rocket narrowed his eyes. "And yet... here I am." He leaned back in his chair. "And I've been here for... What, three days now? Groot's gonna come lookin' pretty soon."

"We already let him know you would be staying with us until you signed the agreement."

_Yeah right..._ Rocket glanced at the paper before him. He chuckled, shaking his head. "So this is some sort of thing that makes you shitheads feel better about yourselves. Knowin' you own me as your property again..."

If he didn't know any better, he'd say the woman's facial expressions turned sympathetic. Even if only a little. "You're not property, Rocket. Not anymore."

"If you guys had to lie to get me here, then I'm pretty fuckin' sure there's a catch." Rocket pointed at the paper. "And that's the catch, isn't it? You want me to give you consent to invade my body and rip me apart all over again, just like before."

"Yet you haven't tried to run," She pointed out calmly. "You're free to go if you disagree."

"Doubt that," Rocket snorted. "I don't wanna risk getting shot at or shocked and chained up like some animal."

She leaned forward to fold her arms over the table in a professional manner. "Rocket... the scientists that made you what you are today are no longer here. When it was found out about their inhumane treatment of their..." Rocket knew she was refraining from using the word 'subjects'. "...patients, they were arrested and sent to prison."

As much as Rocket wanted to believe that, he just couldn't. "Then what the hell does that make you then? Some sort of saint just cause you guys took over?"

"We've... continued their previous work, yes," she answered honestly, almost hesitantly. "...but our patients aren't treated the way they were treated before. We pay them for their willingness to stay here. We give them a choice to stay or leave, and if they choose to stay, they're paid and given a place to live. They're still surgically modified, but they aren't tortured or locked up if they refuse a procedure. We are enchanting others like yourself to help protect the galaxy, not just for profit like the precious scientists."

"You don't need to make anyone into anything," Rocket practically spat out. "Almost all of my friends were treated the same way and it made them who they are, but you bastards had nothing to do with how we think and act. You only made us monsters to cut us open like some... some _plaything_!"

She flinched slightly when he raised his tone, but she kept her calm gaze. "Only two of your friends weren't experimented on. Groot and Peter Quill, two other Guardians of the Galaxy."

Rocket hadn't heard that title in _years_, and just hearing Peter's name again after so long made his chest clench painfully. "Yeah, what about them?"

"They were the only ones not surgically modified in their lifetimes," the woman explained carefully. "And if what I heard is correct... Mr. Quill is no longer with us."

Rocket winced at that, and the pain in his chest tightened. "You mean he's dead," he corrected her harshly. "Then yeah. He is. He died years ago."

"As did Drax the Destroyer and Gamora."

Rocket clenched his hands tighter. "What's your fuckin' point?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"My point is that you and your friend Groot are the last remaining Guardians of the Galaxy."

"Well we ain't guardians anymore," Rocket snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at her. "We stopped years ago." _We stopped when Quill was the last to go... _

"And now you own a gun shop on Xandar with Groot, is that correct?"

He didn't look at her now. He refused to meet her pity party of a gaze. "It pays good money."

"Yes, but... you don't like doing it as much as you think."

Rocket's eyes snapped up to meet her gaze. "What are you, my psychologist now? What makes you think I don't like what I do now?"

"Because I've read a lot about you, Rocket, and I've read your files, and I know a lot more about you than you think," she explained. "And we've only just met, and already I know just by looking at you that you miss the action more than anything."

Rocket scoffed and rolled his eyes. "If you want me to kill someone for you, you gotta offer a price first."

"We're not offering you to kill anyone." She leaned back in her seat. "At least... not anyone who _doesn't_ deserve to die."

Rocket was confused by that. "And... that means _what_ exactly?"

The woman only smiled. "We're offering to make you stronger than you already are. Enhancing you, really. Like that arm you lost in an accident three years ago..."

_Bitch must have read about that too..._ Rocket clutched his robotic hand to his chest instinctively. "What about it?"

"We can make it stronger. We can make _you_ stronger."

"You mean cut me open and make me into things I don't want to be..."

"We're not going to do anything you don't want to. But we are offering you a chance to be made into a hero."

Rocket slammed his fist into the table, startling the woman. "I was a hero once, didn't ya hear?!" He yelled. "I was a _Guardian of the Galaxy_! And it wasn't just me, there were five of us all together! And guess what? Three of them, my _friends_, all died years ago! Groot and I are all that's left, and we can't be Guardians without a team! So don't even try to offer to 'make me' into some kind of hero, cause before I met Pete, and Gamora and Drax, I was anything _but_ a hero. And maybe I was a hero once when they were still here..." He turned away from the woman now, tone quieting down now. "...but not anymore."

The woman was silent for some time, as if taking in what he had said. And he had to admit, yes, he did miss the action, she was right about that... and while he would like to do good again, the risk of being surgically modified again was what stopped him from agreeing to do anything they wanted him to do.

"...you came here because you were told that a group of schoolchildren from a planet near Xandar were abducted and brought here," she reminded him gently.

"Yeah, and I'm still keepin' an eye out for them, cause I wouldn't put it past you creeps to hurt a bunch of kids," Rocket spat.

"...it was the only way to get you here." She smiled again, but this time it seemed genuine. Almost trustworthy as well. "And it was a small test."

"A test for what?" The raccoon demanded.

"To see if you still cared for those who can't defend themselves."

Rocket scoffed. "It ain't like I stopped caring. I just stopped _helping_ because..."

"You don't think you're strong enough?"

"Compared to everyone else?" Rocket shook his head. "No. All I know how to do is handle guns and talk shi—" He paused, giving her a glare. "Whoa whoa _whoa!_ I ain't tellin' you jackshit about why I stopped doing anything! It was _my_ choice to stop being a Guardian!"

"But you want to keep doing it." She brought out a pen and slowly pushed it towards him. "You want to help others again... and we can help make you stronger so you can do just that."

The offer really did sound tempting, but Rocket wished the offer was from anyone other than these Halfworld scientists. Still... "What's the catch if I agree?"

"There's no catch," she explained carefully. "We're only going to modify your cybernetics and enhance your abilities. You'll be able to run faster, fight hand to hand combat even at your size—" Rocket bristled at that, but she continued on, "—and be psychically stronger than anyone in the galaxy."

"Yeah, but what's the catch?" Rocket repeated impatiently. "I give you consent to do all this shit just so you can look me away after I do my 'hero duties'?"

"Not even close," she said with a shake of her head. "You'll be given the freedom to live wherever you want without any monitoring whatsoever. And you'll get paid for every procedure, and not to mention we'll medicate you during each procedure so you won't feel any pain, even when you wake up. You'll only feel stronger."

"...so you'll pay me?" That interested him too. Greatly. "How much?"

"4 billion units."

_Where the hell do I sign?!_ His hand was already reaching for the pen at that, but he stopped himself. "So if I sign this, you'll pay me so you guys can make me stronger?"

"So you can—"

"Go out and save the galaxy, blah blah blah." Rocket rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know _that_. I've been there before, remember?" He stared at the pen now, before scanning the agreement disclosure sitting before him. A quick glance showed that it said everything the woman had already told him.

_Ugh... Pete, Gamora, Drax... Guys, wherever you are, please don't make me regret this..._

Slowly and hesitantly, Rocket reached for the pen. He gripped it in his robotic hand—which he lost in such a stupid accident three years before that even Quill, the Stardork, would have laughed at him if he'd been alive to see it—and slowly brought it towards the paper, right where it asked for his signature. He eyed the woman one last time. "Just know that if you guys try any shit, I'll kill every last one of you before you even have a chance to blink."

The woman laughed at that, but it was a genuine, hearty laugh. "You're already talking like a true hero, Rocket."


End file.
